A Reminder of Darker Days
by Raven Morning
Summary: Ralph's life has taken a definite turn for the better after saving Sugar Rush from Turbo - but after a confrontation with Gene at an honorary party, Ralph realizes that not all hurt can be left in the past. Review please!


**So, the WIR-headcanons blog on Tumblr supplies me with so many ideas that I just can't help but use some of them for stories! The prompt is below:**

**Prompt 2376: Ralph boxed in most of his emotions over the course of his thirty years of being demonized and bullied. He finally broke down after the events of the movie, when Gene indirectly revealed he wished Ralph had stayed in the penthouse when the game would have been unplugged. **

**I like the idea that with all the abuse that Ralph's taken, it would have some negative effect on him at some point or another. All that pain doesn't**** just**** disappear overnight. But I'd rather him have to go through it with friends on his side than not, so our poor wrecker has someone to pick him back up and get him on his feet.  
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**I hope yall like it! **

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"Gene."

"Ralph."

"Nice party, huh?"

"Felix's parties generally are nice, yes."

The two regarded each other stiffly, the portly Nicelander nursing one of his endless martini glasses and the wrecker attempting not to break anything in Felix's recently re-inhabited penthouse. Several other Nicelanders surrounded them, mingling and chatting amicably over the dull thump of party music – this time there was no live DJ, as the party was smaller and more intimate. Among the groups were some faces not so familiar to the game cabinet, including Calhoun, Vanellope, Zangief, Clyde, and a few other members of Bad Anon who were sociable enough to drag themselves across Game Central Station to Fix-It Felix Jr.'s outlet. Hanging above their heads was a banner proclaiming 'Back In Order!', celebrating the game's survival after Ralph's game jumping fiasco nearly resulted in Litwak pulling their plug.

Several Nicelanders walked up and greeted Ralph when he arrived ten minutes prior with Vanellope. He was shocked at the warm welcome, but eagerly greeted them in return. Felix was busy in the back entertaining guests and answering their endless questions about what happened in Sugar Rush, but waved and tipped his hat to his antagonist when he spotted him at the entrance.

Frankly, all of this had Ralph floored. He wasn't used to getting the time of day, much less an invitation to a party held partly in his honor!

The wrecker was at a bit of a loss at what to do – he had never been to a party, especially not in the penthouse. He'd stood for a few minutes in the same spot, casting his eyes this way and that and nervously tapping his fingers against his folded hands. For a while, he considered leaving until Mary approached him, all sincere smiles and happy voiced.

"Why hello, Ralph! So glad you could make it," she exclaimed, and without hesitation, reached up and put her hand on the side of his, leading him to the right of the room. "I'm about to bring out a cake in your and Felix's honor, and I'd like you to be one of the first to see it!" She craned her head up to catch his eye and smiled as they sidestepped a group of Sugar Rush racers. Ralph blinked before breaking out into a beaming grin.

"Wow, really?" he breathed. "T-Thanks Mary, that's really nice of you." She stopped next to the long buffet table that sat against the right-most wall, laden with all sorts of food brought from the Nicelander's kitchens and Sugar Rush.

"Oh, you're welcome!" she chirped. "Now just stay there. I'll be back in a few." She made to turn around, her eyes shifting slightly to the side, before she paused and waved at someone standing to Ralph's right. "Hello, Gene! Wonderful party, isn't it?"

The Bad Guy froze at the name and nervously glanced out of the corner of his eye. Yep, there he was, in all his blue-suited and martini drinking grumpiness. Mary left the two with a cheerful goodbye, turning and scurrying off, oblivious to the obvious discomfort she had inadvertently created.

Now, the two mismatched characters stood side-by-side, avoiding eye contact. Ralph rocked back on his heels, folding his hands in front of him and trying to think of something, _anything_, he could say to break the awkward silence that had fallen over them.

"So... you over here waiting for Mary's cake, too?" he asked. Gene regarded the towering wrecker for a second before taking a sip from his martini.

"Yes," he replied flatly. "I assume that's why she brought you over here?"

"Yep!" Ralph smiled. "I've never tried one of Mary's cakes before, so I can't wait to see what she brings out."

Gene snorted. "Hmph. You _could_ have tried one, if you hadn't smashed it to bits."

Ralph stiffened and turned slightly toward the diminutive man. He was caught off guard by the comment, the first negative one he'd heard all night. "I think that's – uh," He rested his hands on his hips and coughed, "that's a different situation, Gene."

The mayor swirled his drink and looked up at Ralph. "Hardly," he chuckled.

Ralph tried to quench his growing irritation and heaved a sigh, carding a big hand through his unruly hair. "Well, for one thing, _Gene_, this was held partly in _my_ honor. When's the last time we had a party for something you did?"

"You wouldn't know, Ralph, you wouldn't have been invited anyway," he replied, setting his glass down firmly on the buffet table and pointing a finger. "You'd only wreck it."

He rolled his eyes with a groan. "What's your problem, Gene?" he asked, his arms crossed against his chest. "Everyone else is being nice to me now, even the other Nicelanders. You're the only one who seems to still have a problem with me."

It was true - the entire arcade was abuzz with the news of Sugar Rush's near destruction, and how a B_ad Guy_, of all things, was the one to save the game. Ralph didn't expect his actions to garner so much attention, but it was welcome – characters were pointing and whispering to their friends not in fear and hatred, but in suprise and adoration. His reputation was changed almost overnight, from Bad Guy to good Bad Guy, which, while small, was a step up that he was more than happy to receive.

"My 'problem'?" Gene exclaimed. "My problem is that we're having this party for you when it was all your fault in the first place!" Ralph faltered, his brow furrowing. "You're still the same Wreck-It-Ralph that abandoned our game! Frankly, I don't see what's changed, or what's worth celebrating."

"I may still be a Bad Guy," the antagonist replied, glaring down at the short man, "but I helped Felix, Calhoun and Vanellope save Sugar Rush, and this game. I found Turbo and kept him from taking over the arcade, for Atari's sake! I think that's at least worth something."

"And you think that makes you a hero?" Gene snorted. "Don't forget - _you're_ the reason our game was put out of order! _You're_ the reason those viruses almost destroyed Sugar Rush!" Gene crossed his arms and faced his opponent with a dark laugh. "Anywhere you go, you wreck things, true to your nature. Like I've said before, Ralph, that's _all_ you'll ever be."

Something dark and heavy twisted in the wrecker's gut, and it was all he could do not to lose his temper. His heart pounded as memories of the last thirty years flooded his code, reminding him of exactly how it felt to be an outsider – just when he finally felt welcome in his own game.

"No!" Ralph barked. The sound drew the party-goers' attention, and suddenly all eyes were on them. "I'm not a Good Guy, and I was wrong to ever try and be one. I was only trying to prove that I'm _more_ than just a Bad Guy. I never wanted our game to be put out of order-"

"You just wanted your medal, right?" Gene took a step forward, darkened by the hulking shadow that Ralph's form cast. "And a penthouse and cake," his voice grew angry and vindictive, "and pie and fireworks and ice sculptures! That's what you wanted, wasn't it? Well, you _stole_ your medal, and when I gave you the penthouse key, you couldn't even stay and do _that_ right!"

Ralph stepped back, eyes blown wide. "D-Do what right?" He stared, now more confused and hurt than angry, as he puzzled through Gene's words. "What are – are you saying you wanted me to _stay?_" Gene looked away, snatching his glass off the table and downing the remaining drink in one gulp. "You wanted me to stay with the game when it was unplugged," Ralph breathed. ". . . Didn't you?"

The silence that had fallen over the party was uneasy, pregnant with tension. The spectators glanced between Ralph and Gene, no one daring to speak a word. By that time, the music had been cut off, and only the sound of the game's ever-present night could be heard through the windows.

"_**Didn't you?"**_ Ralph yelled, his eyes narrowing and his fists clenched at his sides. His chest heaved. "You wanted me to die with the game!"

". . . It would have been easier for everyone if you'd just gone through with the bet and gotten the game unplugged, Ralph," Gene answered quietly, his tone cold. "Then, for once, everyone would see you for what you are – just a bad guy."

And just like that, Ralph was kicked off his sunny cloud and dropped right back into the mud he crawled out of every day. Rage boiled in his gut, and it took everything he had not to smash Gene into the ground and show him just what a Bad Guy was capable of. Instead, he took a shuddering breath and drew himself to his full height, looming over Gene and eclipsing him with his shadow.

"You know what, Gene?" Ralph said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I'm not the bad guy here. You are."

And with that, Ralph turned on his heel and strode toward the door, not letting anyone see as tears burned at the back of his eyes. The crowd remained in silent shock as he left, half of them watching Ralph and the other half staring at Gene. The first to stir was Vanellope, who tore between characters to reach the front of the crowd. She threw a glare at Gene, full of more hatred than any would ever think the sugar princess capable of. She held his shocked gaze for a split second before running after her best friend, yelling for him, her voice splitting the silence.

"Ralph, wait! Please!"

Suddenly, life sprung back into the room as characters began to shift and murmur amongst themselves. Many threw dirty or disapproving looks at Gene, including a few of the Nicelanders, which took the mayor aback. He glanced around, searching for a fount of support, but didn't find a single friendly face in the crowd. Lingering near the edge of the massed group was Felix, who clutched his hat in his hands and gazed worriedly at the door to his home. The handyman threw a look toward Gene, hesitating slightly.

"Felix," Gene supplicated, stepping forward slightly, "don't tell me you don't understand where I'm coming from. This is the brute that destroyed our home for thirty years! He's a Bad Guy!"

The protagonist cast a look of what seemed almost like pity toward his long-term friend and shook his head. "It's just his job, Gene. And now, I have to go do mine." With that, Felix secured his hat firmly on his head, tugging down on the brim, and with much determination made his way to the door, not sparing Gene a second glance.

Ralph stormed down the hall, shoulders squeezed in and head down to accommodate for his large size in the non-Ralph sized building. He had no plan on where he was going or what he was going to do – all he could see was red as his infamous temper rose and rose. But creeping in around the edges of that anger was a hurt so deep he was afraid to even acknowledge it. It was nothing new – in fact, the pain's return was like greeting an old friend. He lived with that hurt for thirty years as a constant companion. Every brush-off, every put down, every insult the Nicelanders threw at him sat and festered, eating him away on the inside. But what could he have done, retaliate? No, that would only make them think he was even more of a monster. Leave his game permanently? He'd considered it before, but in the end he could never abandon his game, leaving it to be unplugged and forcing the Nicelanders out of their homes. He might have been angry, but he wasn't Turbo. Besides, other characters outside of his game didn't treat him much better, more like a walking hazard meant to be avoided at all cost. No, Ralph was just better off in his game, even if it did mean he was utterly alone and treated like the garbage he lived in.

After a while, he learned to shove the pain and hurt into a box and put it in the back of his mind, to dwell there like a phantom, ever present. For a few days after meeting Vanellope and saving Sugar Rush, he'd forgotten the box existed. The princess' friendship, and the friendship of Felix and Calhoun, was like a balm, soothing over his emotional hang-ups and wounds. But tonight, Gene dragged that box back from the dregs of his mind and kicked it wide open.

His legs quickly carried him to the first turn of the hallway, where a window with an overview of the entire game cabinet sat in its frame. With barely a thought, Ralph drew back a massive fist and caved out the wall. Dust exploded in the air, clearing to reveal a hole in the building large enough for the wrecker to fit through. He hunched down and jumped, falling straight down from the top floor without even flinching. The ground shook with the force of his weight as he landed, and he shook himself briefly before turning and heading toward the dump.

Somewhere overhead, he heard a small voice calling out to him.

"Ralph! Hey, stinkbrain, wait up!" There was a bright flash of blue binary that disappeared and reappeared a split second later behind him. Vanellope materialized and immediately stepped forward, tossing her hands up. "Slow down for a sec, big guy!"

He twisted around and looked down at her, unable to muster the patience for kindness. "What?" he snapped. She winced at his sharp tone, but continued to cautiously close the distance between them.

"You okay?" she asked softly. "That jerk said some pretty terrible things back there and-"

"I'm fine," he replied, the lie falling flat as soon as it left his lips. He turned and continued on to the massive junk pile backed against the edge of the cabinet's map. All he wanted to do was punch bricks and concrete until they were nothing but dust.

Vanellope ran to keep up with him, trailing at his heels. "You're not foolin' anyone, pal. You look ready to throw another one of your diaper baby tantrums."

Ralph inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. "Look, kid, I can't do this right now. Just go back to the party."

Vanellope rose an eyebrow and shook her head. "Nu-uh, no can do, Ralphie. Someone has to watch out for you, right?"

She glitched forward, zipping in an arch of electricity and code to reappear in front of him. She reached out, halting him in his tracks, and placed a hand on his. The last remnants of her glitch leached over from her hand to where she touched his, causing it to ripple through his code. He dropped to his knee at the sudden, disorienting feeling, rendered breathless from the disruption. His code flickered for a few seconds before calming down and stabilizing, but he didn't move again. Vanellope watched him as he slumped in defeat, his head down, shoulders falling, fists clenched on the ground. Suddenly, she was reminded of that day on the Rainbow Bridge exit, when Ralph was nearly forced to leave her behind in her dying game. Cautiously, she moved her hand to touch his shoulder.

". . . You were the first person to ever care about me, Ralph," she said softly. "You were the only friend I've ever had. I'm a racer 'cause of you! Heck, I'm the President of Sugar Rush!" She smiled up at him. "All 'cause of you. No matter what Mister Mustache says, you're my hero, big guy. And I can betcha your medal is worth, like, fifty of Felix's dumb medals!"

She ducked down, trying to get a peek at his face. He didn't say anything, only closed his eyes and turned his head with a pained expression.

"Look, don't listen to that dumb fancy-pants," she continued, a forced lightness in her voice. "I, for one, am glad you came back. If your game got unplugged, I woulda lost my best friend in the world."

His shoulders hitched, and he raised his head enough to look at her. Vanellope caught a glimpse of him and suddenly felt like she had swallowed a whole jawbreaker. She had never seen Ralph cry before, and never thought she would. But as she watched the tears flow over to stream down his face, she figured that everyone has their breaking point, and he had just hit his.

"Aww, Ralphie," she murmured. He jerked back in surprise when the small racer leapt up and grabbed on to his shirt front, doing her best to hug him with her tiny arms. He blinked, before raising his arms and returning the hug. He cradled her into his chest, letting his head dip down and rest against the top of hers. She was engulfed in his grip, both his hands covering her entire body from the neck down. She felt damp spots start to form in her hair from where Ralph's tear-wet cheek met her head.

"Sorry, kid. I just . . ." He paused and sighed. His voice was toned with faint regret. "I just thought all this junk was behind me for good."

"Hey, come on," she chuckled playfully, pushing against his chest far enough to grin up at him. "Ya don't have to apologize, Ralph. What are friends for, if you can't complain and trash talk other people with them?" He snorted at that, a small smile surfacing for the first time. Vanellope's spirits lifted – if he was laughing, she was at least doing something right. "You think you'll be alright, you big baby?"

Ralph smiled and shook his head in disbelief. He knew that despite her teasing and name-calling that she was worried about him. In truth, having the dirty haired little brat with him helped a lot. She reminded him that he had someone who truly cared about him, when he had never had that before. He still stood by his reasoning that if she liked him, he couldn't be _all_ bad. And even if some people still hated him, it didn't matter what they thought. All that mattered was that he was there for Vanellope and his new found family. As far as Ralph was concerned, Gene and all the other naysayers could go suck a cough drop.

Warmth stirred in his chest as he regarded his best friend thoughtfully. The box Gene had upset became just a little bit lighter, some of the emotional burden lifting and resolving itself of its own accord.

"Yeah, Princess Cavity," he grinned, "as long as I've got my best friend, I'll think I'll be okay."

She giggled and wormed her way out of his grip, scampering up to stand on his shoulder. "Good," she replied, leaning against his head. "I can't handle all this emotional mushy junk anyway."

He rolled his eyes and slowly got to his feet, wiping away the remnants of his tears with the back of his hand. "Gee, thanks for the support," he said sarcastically. There was a moment of silence where the two friends regarded each other with warm smiles, content to be together even despite the not-so-perfect evening.

"Ralph!" The voice of the game's protagonist rang out across the night, drawing both his and Vanellope's attention. Felix was hurrying toward them, securing his hammer into his belt along the way. He came to a stop, leaning over and panting slightly. "Are you two alright?"

He and Vanellope exchanged looks and smiled at the handyman. "Yeah," Ralph replied, "we are now."

"Oh my land, that's a relief!" Felix exclaimed, his usual grin returning to his face. "I was so worried when you left! And after what Gene said, too -"

Ralph waved a large hand, scoffing. "Nah, I'm fine."

"Good. Now why don't you two come back up and rejoin the party?" Felix asked, gesturing with a gloved thumb to the building behind them. "I just fixed the wall, and Gene seems to have run off somewhere and I don't think he's coming back tonight. Besides, Mary's about to bring out her cake and you have just got to see it . . ."

The wrecker smiled. For once, everything in Ralph's life was amazing.

_END_

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**Thanks for reading, I hope yall liked it! Review, please!**


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